Grounded (Up in the Air #3)(8)

It was the first time he’d ever tried something on me that was so profoundly painful that I wasn’t sure if I could take it. I was the closest I’d ever come to safe-wording when he stopped.

I was sobbing when he gripped the front of my thighs from behind, pulling my legs up and back so that I was completely suspended.

He kept me like that as he moved between my legs from behind. He pounded into me brutally, as though this too was a punishment. He drove into me again and again with angry thrusts, our only two points of contact his hands on my thighs, and his c**k inside of me. He had me on the edge in moments, and I came around him with a little sob, my inner walls clenching him again and again, milking him until he bottomed out in me, coming with a surprised little shout.

I didn’t think I’d ever had a more powerful orgasm, and I sobbed with the pleasure and the pain of it as he finally pulled out of me, and lowered my feet back to the bed. He untied me quickly, pulling me down onto the bed with him. He pushed my face into his naked chest, murmuring soothing words as I cried all over the Bianca on his chest. He stroked his hands over my back, and kissed my hair, and none of it made me feel better.

He had worked me over harder than ever before, f**king me twice without a second of intimate eye contact, without a second of intimacy in general. And I had come so hard that I couldn’t stop sobbing for the loss of control. For the first time since we had gotten together, I began to worry that the things we brought out in each other wasn’t something I could live with. Or rather, the things he brought out in me.

I had always known I had a masochistic streak, though I’d kept it buried deeply, but I’d thought that being with James, doing the things we did, would help to sate those urges in me. For the first time I wondered, what if it’d only made it worse?

James seemed to sense my withdrawal. “I need to get back to work soon, but first…”

He flipped me onto my back, parting my legs and moving between them in one smooth motion. He pushed my legs far apart, then pushed them up high against me. I was watching his magnificent c**k as he lined himself up at my core.

“Look at me,” he snapped, sounding furious.

I looked at those beloved eyes and got lost, as though just the sight of them could make my troubled mind go blank.

He drove into me with one smooth thrust. “Get out of your own head, Bianca. I won’t let you withdraw from me.”

He began to move inside of me, thrusting steadily, his eyes holding me captive. He circled his hips, moving that long, thick c**k along the walls of my sex. I moaned, then gasped. He had so many tricks to make me come and when he tried the move again, I clenched around him with my release.

His eyes were so tender and so intimate as he found his own release long moments later, his hand finding my cheek. I knew my eyes held that same raw vulnerability.

CHAPTER FOUR

Mr. Excessive

James tucked me in tenderly, kissing my forehead and telling me to get some sleep. I didn’t argue. I doubted I could have walked out of there, let alone gotten back to his apartment still standing, without some sleep. I drifted off.

I awoke slowly, languorously, stretching my sore body against soft sheets, my eyes drifting open with an effort. The sight that met my eyes brought me fully awake.

The black and blue bouquet of wicked roses was arranged on the pillow as though it were a real arrangement. James wasn’t in bed with me, of course—he was working, but the bouquet was apparently his replacement. I turned away from the brutal reminder of our earlier activities, sitting up.

I didn’t know what had happened to my clothes, other than that they weren’t in the room with me, and out there was an office. I found myself in the awkward position of having to wrap myself in a sheet to peek carefully into the office. I would be mortified if James had company.

Thankfully he was alone, sitting at his desk silently, a phone to his ear. He noticed me immediately. He waved me to him. I approached him slowly, clutching the huge, soft white sheet to me tightly.

He covered the mouthpiece on his phone carefully. “Morning, my love. Lose the sheet and sit here,” he said, patting the spot on his desk directly in front of his chair.

Oh my.

He had more plans for me.

I felt self-conscious as I dropped the sheet, but I forgot the feeling almost instantly as I saw his hot gaze on my body.

“So what’s the problem?” he said into his phone, his voice a little gruff.

I had to brush against him to move to the spot he had indicated. I knew it wasn’t an accident. He gave my hip a brief kiss as I moved to arrange myself.

I perched myself on the edge of his desk, facing him.

He was fully clothed in a crisp, fresh suit. Of course he’d have ungodly expensive extra suits on hand, just in case. This one was a traditional dark gray suit, perfectly tailored in the modern style. His dress shirt was the same color but with a bright white collar, his tie a shocking crimson. He looked devastating, perfect, and sinister—all at once.

He was finely dressed down to his toes, and I had not a stitch on. I was soaking wet and he’d barely even touched me. The old-fashioned office setting wasn’t helping the situation. There was something so inherently erotic about him mastering me from behind the desk where he reigned over his own powerful empire.

He used his free hand to push my thighs wider apart with a firm touch. He covered the mouthpiece of his phone again. “Lean back on your elbows,” he ordered.